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Entry tags:
- arcane: vander,
- arknights: gavial,
- bastard!!: dark schneider,
- expanse (the): amos burton,
- fire emblem: dimitri a. blaiddyd,
- genshin impact: kaeya alberich,
- genshin impact: zhongli,
- granblue fantasy: eustace,
- legend of zelda (the): link,
- oc: liem talbott,
- orv: dokja kim,
- practical guide to evil: akua sahelian,
- snotgirl: lottie person,
- star wars: cassian andor,
- star wars: jyn erso,
- trigun maximum: vash the stampede
april event, phase one: seeds of unrest đ±
THE BEGINNING
Summertime in Springstar has been on its way out, heralding the arrival of fall; winter has likewise given way to spring in Highstorm - at least, according to the calendar. Yet there is an unseasonable bite on the breeze - one growing as frigid as the mood among Meris and Zenites in their cities. Between Alenrouxâs occupation and talk of âthe Blight,â worries have been on the lips of the citizens with increasing frequency - and with good reason. The reports of plant life dying, of objects crumbling, of people whose bodies are deteriorating are dominating the rumor mills and local papers.
Everything comes to a head early in the second half of Pelu.
After an unusual pocket of commotion in the Seat of the Tribune and the courtyard of Yimaâs manor, an urgent announcement is made on behalf of both cities: both Great Trees have been quarantined, and no one is permitted in either location without clearance. New rumors spread of an âincidentâ that saw those in the immediate vicinity of the Trees rapidly demonstrating symptoms of an illness that was becoming all too easy to identify. It had stricken with frightening speed; not long afterwardâŠ
The unrest had spread into the streets, and it wasnât just about the Blight anymore.
Cetina and Kathova wasted no time in reaching out to the Bearers via Communion to offer them guidance from their leaders and incite them to action.
Everything comes to a head early in the second half of Pelu.
After an unusual pocket of commotion in the Seat of the Tribune and the courtyard of Yimaâs manor, an urgent announcement is made on behalf of both cities: both Great Trees have been quarantined, and no one is permitted in either location without clearance. New rumors spread of an âincidentâ that saw those in the immediate vicinity of the Trees rapidly demonstrating symptoms of an illness that was becoming all too easy to identify. It had stricken with frightening speed; not long afterwardâŠ
The unrest had spread into the streets, and it wasnât just about the Blight anymore.
Cetina and Kathova wasted no time in reaching out to the Bearers via Communion to offer them guidance from their leaders and incite them to action.
SPRINGSTAR: THE ROOT OF THE ISSUE
Day by day, changes unfold that render the city increasingly dangerous...
ROOTS:
Vine-like roots have begun to thread the streets, creeping upon and over buildings, spreading outward from the Tree in Heliopolis. Over the next two weeks, they will continue to grow in size and become more troublesome, slowly blooming ice-like leaves that radiate a sickly glow.- GROWTH: Contrary to the Blightâs normal behaviors, some people and things around clusters of vines or leaves can experience a burst of vitality, growth, and splendor as if transforming to beyond peak condition. In a normal citizen, this may result in an almost manic level of energy, reckless behaviors, and aggression. In objects, they become more durable and efficient, but dangerously so - for example, a stovetop cooks faster but burns uncontrollably hot. In plant life, this results in overgrowth that can overwhelm and choke nearby flora, objects, or even people. Then, they burn out an hour after exposure and immediately succumb to a dire state of Blighted.
- CHILL: The temperatures will continue to drop throughout the next two weeks. It will be coldest where vines have clustered and outright dangerously so near where flowers have budded or bloomed in great numbers. This will force some people from their homes.
TIME POCKETS:
In seemingly random parts of the city, areas referred to as âtime pocketsâ have populated. There is no way to identify a time pocket but to stumble into one.- REGRESSION: NPCâs in these areas will appear to freeze in time once a Bearer has breached the pocketâs radius but appear normal from the outside. Time within has halted at the point the pocket manifested ( typically covering an area like a city street or inside a single large building that sees regular use ). Objects can be freely manipulated but will not fall if thrown, etc.
- The pocket cannot be left until the Bearer has achieved their objective. Attempting to exit the way they entered, theyâll run into an unseen barrier that is painful to the touch, a sensation of frigidity that travels to their Shard.
- Their goal will be to locate a past version of themselves hidden from immediate view. This past version of themselves can be from any point in their lives but must be from a moment when they felt extremely vulnerable, isolated, wounded, or fearful.
- Once finding this past version, they will feel the compulsion to either find a way to reassure their past selves somehow or kill them. Whether it is the Bearer themselves who performs these acts or another Bearer in their company does it for them, as long as their past selves are pacified enough ( to player satisfaction ) or dead, they will gain immunity to the pocket and may leave. The immediate area will remain frozen, however, and the past version will be revealed to be made of roots that will shrivel and die.
- Note: Bearers will be able to see other Bearerâs past selves, even after they have been freed. Whether the past reflections are capable of speech while functional is up to player discretion.
HIGHSTORM: THE ROOTS OF CHANGE
The snows continue to fall over the city, feeling brittle against your skin...
ROOTS:
Vine-like roots have begun to thread the streets, creeping upon and over buildings, spreading outward from the Great Tree in Yimaâs manor. Over the next two weeks, they will continue to grow in size and become more troublesome, slowly blooming ice-like leaves that radiate a sickly glow.- SACRIFICIAL: [ CW: self-harm ] Where the roots snake and gather throughout the city, NPCâs in several locations are falling victim to the quiet, slow pulse of the flowers and their buds. They will sit and stare at the flowers for hours, unblinkingly, as their body begins to succumb to the Blight. If they are disturbed in any way - a loud noise, an attempt to move their person, etc - they will calmly look up from their worship and crack off a piece of their brittle body before returning to their reverie.
- In order to save them, a pair (or more) of Bearers must sneak up on the NPC - one using a pacifying spell given by one of the faction leaders while the other crushes the flower. If the NPC is not pacified before the flower is crushed, they will become hysterical and the Blight will rapidly consume them, causing them to perish. If they are pacified and the flower is not crushed, the spell will wear off within ten seconds with the same result.
- CHILL: The temperatures will continue to drop throughout the next two weeks. It will be coldest where vines have clustered and outright dangerously so near where flowers have budded or bloomed in great numbers. This will force some people from their homes.
TIME POCKETS:
In seemingly random parts of the city, areas referred to as âtime pocketsâ have populated. There is no way to identify a time pocket but to stumble into one.- REFLECTIONS: NPCâs in these pockets are moving in surreal blurs, pieces of them moving forward as others move backward, some changing as if time were rapidly passing as others remain frozen still. The Bearersâ surroundings are distorted as if reflecting multiple realities simultaneously.
- Their goal will be to locate a tall standing mirror situated alone in the center of the time pocketâs radius. The Bearer who first touches their reflection ( henceforth called âmirror-Bearerâ ) will cause the world inside the pocket to suddenly stop, reflecting a comforting environment they have fond or pleasant associations with. The mirror will be gone.
- Something or someone the mirror-Bearer highly values, deeply misses, or sees as imperative to their character, goals, or desires will be present. If they make contact with this object or person, the Time Pocket loops and sends them back to searching for the mirror - but they will have no memory of this occurring. Their partner, however, will recall everything.
- Both Bearers will be released if five loops occur without the mirror-Bearer being stopped from causing the loop or if the mirror-Bearer is stopped from reaching their goal for five minutes ( willingly or otherwise ). The longer they refuse to make contact with this object or person, the more tempting and dire the need becomes inside of them.
- Once the Bearers are released, the Time Pocket disappears. If they manage to avoid contact with the temptation inside the Pocket, the roots and flowers in this area will be withered and dying, buying the NPCâs and buildings in this location some time. Otherwise, they will be thriving and dangerously blooming.
- Note: the mirror will not respond to the non-mirror-Bearer once it has been touched the first time.
ENTREE-TING HELP
The Tree of Life is in danger, and you know it. Both Yima and Cyrus have directed all Bearers who might listen to increase visitation to the Tree and monitor it for signs of the Blight - of its leaves changing color, of any frostbitten bark, of its roots withering.
And then, during a moment in which you find your mind at ease, at rest... you dream, even if dreaming is unnatural for you. You dream of yourself sitting beneath the massive bows of the Tree's breadth, at peace. The perpetual dawn's glow warms your skin in a way that seeps into your bones, leaving you certain you are safe from harm. The Tree reaches out, and though it cannot speak to you in words, you feel it is trying to convey a message: one of urgency. One of plea.
But you cannot understand...
Soon, the branches of the Tree are reaching out to others. You cannot see them, but you know they're there; a spiritual tether connects your Shards together, bringing you all into a place of wordless unity. And once your fellows have been summoned, you know what you are here for.
You feel it rather than see it: some meager, barely-there brush of something cold in the warmth of the island's comfort. The Tree is already infected, and the clock is running down for all of you.
When you wake to yourself, a feeling of dread not entirely your own will chase you, and you will find a single violet leaf in your hand.
And then, during a moment in which you find your mind at ease, at rest... you dream, even if dreaming is unnatural for you. You dream of yourself sitting beneath the massive bows of the Tree's breadth, at peace. The perpetual dawn's glow warms your skin in a way that seeps into your bones, leaving you certain you are safe from harm. The Tree reaches out, and though it cannot speak to you in words, you feel it is trying to convey a message: one of urgency. One of plea.
But you cannot understand...
Soon, the branches of the Tree are reaching out to others. You cannot see them, but you know they're there; a spiritual tether connects your Shards together, bringing you all into a place of wordless unity. And once your fellows have been summoned, you know what you are here for.
You feel it rather than see it: some meager, barely-there brush of something cold in the warmth of the island's comfort. The Tree is already infected, and the clock is running down for all of you.
When you wake to yourself, a feeling of dread not entirely your own will chase you, and you will find a single violet leaf in your hand.
MISC NOTES
- Bearers start with immunity to the Blight. They will not succumb to the effects of the Blight even if they handle the vines and flowers directly without precautions or care.
- The above effects will occur in small clusters and are not yet spread city-wide during phase one. The escalation of frequency characters will come across problematic clusters or Time Pockets will be slow building.
- For context, it takes about a month from infection to death or dissolution for the average person or object to succumb to the Blight. By the 21st, it will be three days to a week.
- Bearers will be directed by Cetina or Kathova to make efforts to protect the civilians and investigate the manifesting changes around both cities. Both factions are working on their own methods to attempt to counteract the Blight, but neither has produced a failsafe solution.
- The roots will remain mostly outdoors, for the most part, these first two weeks.
- Tensions will slowly ramp up in Alenroux, and there are checkpoints for any non-PC visitors to screen for signs of infection.
- Player characters who die inside the Time Pockets are dead and need their Shards brought to the Tree of Life for revival.
- HAVE FUN!! â„
REFLECT ON YOUR...
[ His wings spread out as though to try to swipe away at the blurs that are walking around them. He follows along out of curiosity if nothing else because Silco seems to walk with some purpose. Or it is just morbid curiosity as to what will happen next?
Perhaps, it is both. ]
Quite the handsome reflection that you have. [ With a little more cheer: ] I don't think it is a waste of time to admire it. [ He also has no idea what is going on, but feels like being difficult simply because he is confused. ]
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The look, that said very clearly, that he should not try to flatter him so. Almost deadpan, if a look could be deadpan. ]
If I wanted to admire my reflection, I would have stayed in my quarters, rather than find it out on the street.
[ He did, however, turn his eyes back to it, though his tone remained somewhat sullen. ]
This is unusual. I walk this street often, and it is out of place.
[ And then there were the blurs, too. ]
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[ Archangel continues to smile. He opens his hands in surrender as his head tilts to the side, smiling still, and weakly shrugs. ]
It is, isn't it?
[ His tone changes abruptly as he lets his hands drop down to his sides. This feels like a massive baroque that has overtaken the city. But what is the source? It's something that he's uncertain of, himself, and can only stare up at the sky. ]
Thank goodness. The sky is still the color it should be.
[ So, it isn't a distortion caused by Dextera or him. Good, good. Is someone else to blame, then? ]
It seems like a massive distortion... but what could have caused it? Reality does not shift like this unless there is great unease. At least, well, in my world... but that place has been righteously destroyed, so... I can offer no advice and only talk for my benefit. [ But talking like this helps to further absolve him of feeling guilty. Uh, well? Is it possible for him to feel guilty anymore? Good question. ]
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[ It doesn't help that where Silco is from, is probably the nastiest place on Runeterra, nobody did anything out of the goodness of their hearts -- at least unless you were a Firelight -- and the culture could only be described as rugged independence. You did not give without expecting something in return, and compliments were a poor man's way to cajole his way into having what he could not get on his own.
That Silco had a silver tongue as well meant that it felt more like the dull edge of his own knife used against him. It was something he hated, couldn't stand. He didn't want a compliment, any more than he wanted something for free. Freebies meant that later on, a debt would come to be paid, and Silco was wary of such things, without taking them on freely. Let's just call it for what it is, Silco was paranoid and acerbic, and did not indulge in niceties unless he was going to get something out of it, and he so often preferred threats over complements -- or if necessary: complements to veil threats.
The words Archangel offered are confusing. The sky is the color it should be? That doesn't make any sense, although it would be a poor omen, if the sky had shifted color. ]
What would the sky have anything to do with this?
[ That, at least, means that he shifts the conversation from 'personality clash' to business, which is pretty good for the man. His gloved hands clasp behind his back as he worked the cigar in his mouth thoughtfully. ]
The only oddity is this.
Do you think it holds another doppelganger? Like the isles?
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[ To not be so obvious in his manipulation. ]
Ah. [ Archangel tilts his head back to stare up at the sky once more. He thinks about how to best explain his concerns; his eyes drifting over the color gracing them. ] The sky of my world turned to blood red. It wasn't the sign of the world ending, but a distortion that took over everything.
[ He frowns, briefly. ] People's minds and hearts became so ruined that the reality of the world morphed and broke with them. [ His face starts to twist in anger before he drops his eyes away from the sky to look back toward Silco. ] So... we're still in a good spot if the sky has not shifted.
[ Anyway. ] Perhaps? Shall we kill "you" together?
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[ He said, his tone a touch amused by the fact that they weren't to that stage yet. ] Ah, I suppose it means, it can always get worse, hm?
[ Silco took a look at Archangel, and shrugged. He supposed that if they were going to kill anyone, it would probably be the guy without wings who would be easier. Besides, he had shimmer, and that would be enough to do himself in, with just a quick jolt. ] Easier to kill me than you, I think.
[ He lifted his cigar, and pressed it into the mirror. Which, of course, did nothing. Silco rolled his eyes and tossed the stub behind him. Go figure, his attempts at being dramatic were occasionally met with resistance.
He tapped the glass with a finger, once his cigar did nothing --
And he was not looking at a mirror any longer. His hand still up, as if he were tapping the glass, it was held to an actual window instead of a mirror. Behind him a chair, and a desk, with a large map unfurled across it -- scribbled in neon crayon -- the ashtray and cup too were scribbled over like a child's hand had taken to them. It was different than the rest of the decor -- rich, nice, a decanter and glasses made of crystal, seats that were made for guests, a couch...
Silco turned, and his eyes darted first up toward the rafters -- empty -- and then for Archangel. Was he alone, or had the other made the trek here? It would change his... approach here, as it were.
If he happened to look out the window, Archangel would get the distinct sense that they were Entirely underground. A bit like being in Kowloon, in fact. ]
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[ He gives a small shrug of his shoulders. His world has been destroyed -- rightfully so, and the means to rebuild is possible. So long as the people can be saved, of course. ]
... what you say is the truth of any world. [ It can always get worse. ]
Do you think so? I wonder. [ Archangel does wonder if it is easier to kill Silco than him. He isn't quite sure that it would be. What he has going for him is not much, but he can bluster a bit to hide his weaknesses.
But he brushes that off to watch the man work. If that is the proper word for it.
His eyes were narrow as he looks at the mirror and what is reflected in it. He turns back to see if their surroundings match before returning his gaze. His head tilts a bit as he narrows his eyes over the neon crayon that has scribbles everywhere. Archangel turns his head up to look at Silco, mildly interested. ]
A little more kiddy than I would have imagined for you. [ But hm, the reflection remains. What to do? ] My first thought is to smash it. Like we smashed the mirrors of the doppelgangers. But simply because that worked one time, will it work again?
Especially since this "you" isn't leaping out to try to kill either one of us.
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His eyes searched the office, but as he turned his eyes back to look toward the mirror, it was gone, and the reality here was -- ]
No, Zaun leaped out instead, and the mirror... [ He said, with a bite of annoyance that said, very clearly, that he was not happy with the results here. Though the room was still, silent, and richly decorated, Silco's eyes were moving fast, darting around like he was looking for something. Would it be himself that leaped out? Would it be Sevika? Knowing his innermost thoughts, and his quick betrayal of Zaun simply out of fury and unwillingness to save Piltover?
He took one step forward, rounding the desk. ] Isn't here. Unless you can still see it?
[ Was this a trust exercise? Would he have to believe this man? ]
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[ He muses to himself without actually answering the question. Archangel walks around to pick up one of the cups that have neon writing and turns it about in his hands. ]
No, it seems to be gone. [ His tone is still surprisingly calm despite everything that has happened. Rolling the cup in his hands, he muses over what this could mean. It certainly is an odd sight. Shifting about, he wonders if the doppelganger is hiding to try to stab one of them in the back.
He drifts his eyes around the shadows and ceiling, humming. ]
What is this? [ The weight of the cup feels real. It isn't an illusion? But then, was it like when they had their memories played out months before? He tosses the cup from one hand to the other. ] The mirror brought us here... will it take us back?
Unless you don't want to go back? [ Since this is Silco's place? He tosses the cup to the man instead. ]
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Too tightly.
This man was restrained normally, and careful. But there was something to the way he caught it, and the way his thumb brushed against it. Like it was important. He caught himself and stopped. ]
I don't know if it will, but we will have to find it. And I do not think we have a choice whether or not to go back. This isn't --
[ 'Go where?' a voice asked from above, in the rafters. It is not Silco's voice, given that it's childlike, and the sound of a girl. Silco, predictably, looked up, though his eyes slid to Archangel, and then back up. Where in the devil had she come from? 'Where's it taking you? What are you looking for?' a beat, and then her head peeked down from above, peeking out from what could only be classified as a "cubbyhole" up in the rafters, a teenager's big blue eyes looked down at Archangel. 'Who's this?' ]
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His red eyes fix on him in a different way than before. It wasn't just that the duplicate was here - it wasn't just that this is a place that Silco knows - but this space is one that he treasures.
He finally looks away to admire the childish drawings once more, listening a little to what is being said to him. But he stops when Silco stops and lifts his head toward the voice. Archangel had to search around before he finds her. ]
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His hand rests upon his chest as he spreads his wings out as much as the small space allows. He tilts his head and bows as any commoner would in front of someone much greater than themselves. Yet there is still an arrogance about him, despite his attempts at trying to hide it. ]
I am the Archangel. We are attempting to find a mirror that should lead us back to where we belong. [ He holds his hand out to her - a gesture as practiced as one would one a play. ] You can consider me a helpful acquaintance of this one if you like.
[ He'd say "friend," but well... that probably wouldn't be it. ]
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And Silco would have slapped his forehead. Why did the man have to go and open his big mouth? If Archangel were able to look, he would have seen that Silco looked at him with such hate in that moment, the kind of thing that probably seems to be an irrational, and unfounded reaction, until --
'Back where you belong?' the voice snapped, and the girl is... quickly down on his desk, crouching, and looking at Archangel like he's just said something horrible. 'Where else does Silco even go?' she looked over at him, like Silco was the one who had said something now, and it's not a kind look. ]
He doesn't know what he's talking about. I'm not going anywhere.
[ Helpful acquaintance, indeed. ]
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Excuse me?
[ His smile fades slightly when Silco humors the girl. The wings fold back further behind him so that he'll be able to move easier. He feels his eyes widen a little -- looking from girl to Silco. ]
Ah. [ He keeps himself calm, breathing out slow. His fingers flex slightly as he muses on what he should say next. ] I do know what I'm talking about... we can't stay here. [ Archangel only says 'we' since he doesn't know how to escape where they are. Since this is connected to Silco, it stands to reason that he can't leave without him. ]
My dear one, you cannot keep him here.
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What looks like metal, gunpowder, wires --
She's just casually making a bomb here. Don't mind her.
Silco, who is actually used to his daughter's... many, many idiosyncracies, does what any parent would do. Is it stop her from blowing the two of them up? Yeah. It's stopping them from getting blown up. ]
Jinx, let's show him the door, hm? I thought there would be a deal to make today, but that is clearly out of the question.
[ Foolishly, he reaches out, to touch her wrist, his hand wraps around it, and -- everything shifts. One moment, Silco reaches for his daughter's wrist, touches it, and --
They are standing outside, looking at the faceless mirror once more. ]
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[ His irritation starts to rise but he attempts to figure out what he can do to sort this matter out. He can only blame the fact the girl started making a bomb right in front of him -- that was distracting enough to lose his cool.
But it seems like he did not have to do everything as they're back in front of the faceless mirror. ]
Good-- [ Archangel starts to say before his head twists around to look at Silco. ] -- what? [ The unintelligible response comes first. He wants to ask why he's repeating himself, but that sounds stupid to his ears. ]
No, it isn't a doppelganger. It's a much more clever trap.
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[ Silco asked, with a single eye that blinked, as he turned to look at Archangel with a curious twist of his head. ]
You've already managed to divine what it can do, then?
[ He turned back at it, and peered in, one eye narrowed, as he tried to figure out what was up with this blank mirror, with no reflection. ]
Are you going to inform those of us who have no sense for the arcane?
[ eeyyyyy ]
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[ It is spoken less as a question and more as a rhetorical statement. ]
We've entered it and time rewound for one of us back to this point. [ And he points down, indicating where they are now. ] Which means that you're the only one affected. [ Could it be related to his cognitive abilities? Or -- ] Could it be because this trap is meant for you?
[ Archangel hums. ] Who is Jinx?
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No, that is not what shattered his composure.
The Archangel said a word that caused Silco's cigar to crumple in his hand, ash and embers left small spots on his glove, and he shook it to get it off, if only to give himself a moment to think. Where had he heard that? Had he met her when she was here? Had he -- ]
I'm not sure why you're asking that question.
[ He said, his tone pointedly neutral. ]
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It isn't disappointment that replaces it, but quiet interest. The same interest he felt when he saw the neon crayon writing - drawings where he felt they should not be. ]
I figured that you wouldn't. [ Archangel knows how aggravating it would be to hear such a reply. He is (somewhat) quick to point to the mirror. ] Jinx was in there. Though, I doubt it was the real her.
[ Can he doubt it? He isn't sure. This is quite confusing. He wonders what the trick is to escape their current predicament. If Silco always enters, will Archangel always be dragged back even if he decides to leave? There is no way of knowing.
Perhaps, the key is to kill the fake Jinx? Perhaps. If he's wrong, well -- if time reverses and brings them back here, it will be no harm-no foul. For him, anyway. ]
I think that illusion may be the key. As soon as you touched her, we skipped back in time to this point. [ And he'll wait for Silco to digest all this information before he proposes his plan. ]
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He does not like that this person knows who Jinx is -- that he knows that Silco is... close to her --
She'd been here before, after all. He did not trust that she would not return. He would keep her shard safe, but if any of these great or terrible beings knew that his daughter's shard rested within his quarters. No amount of protecting her with a mere alarm spell would ever truly do, but he could not keep her on him either. No, if someone knew, they would try to take her, the moment they dissipated him, and --
He swallowed. Puffed again at his cigar. ]
Do you have confirmation that it isn't her?
[ His voice is so carefully neutral. Perhaps it is giving something away, by leveling out his voice, no derision even in it, but... ]
Where were we?
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[ Archangel decides to answer that question first. He steps forward, walking in front of the mirror. Using his wings, he spreads them out to cover up the scene that is being reflected in the glass. Is it glass? ]
But isn't Zaun gone?
[ In the dream that brought them to this place, he dreamt of the destruction of his world. It filled him with a great sense of peace. He also thought that perhaps he would die. But he'll ruminate on that feeling later. His wings fold back behind him. ]
There is no way for her to be the real her.
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[ He said simply. Confirmation of some things, at least. Though his eyes looked at Archangel with a keen, piercing gaze. ]
You don't know if it is or isn't her.
[ It's sharp then, biting. It could be. If this was a part of the tree's machinations, it could be trying to bring her back -- AetĂłs had said explicitly that her connection was strong. The only way to confirm was... locked away in his quarters, and Silco was expressly tight lipped about the fac that he had his daughter's shard. ]
It is possible that the tree has kidnapped her -- she disappeared some time ago, after upsetting the dryad -- though I do not discount the fact that it's a trick.
[ He held up a finger. Before Archangel thought him foolish. ] There are few ways to tell, unless it gives up the trick, or we pull her from the mirror to reality.
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Perhaps, if someone is to grab her, it should be me, then.
[ Since the last time, it did not work so well. But if Silco wants to question the Jinx in the mirror, who is he to argue? Furthermore, who is he to say if he's right or not? ]
If it turns out that this can't be done, and we come back to this point again ... hm. [ It's only happened once. Will Silco forget, again? Will he? He wonders. Perhaps a contingency is needed. ] If I forget what happened here...
[ What if he ends up forgetting this conversation? So, what could he have Silco say to make sure that they don't repeat the same mistakes? ]
What phrase should we say so we know we've been duped again?
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Even less so.
He tipped his head, and there was a split to his lips, almost a sneer. ]
If you can grab her, do not blame me for the consequences. [ She'd just been building a bomb. In his office. Silco wasn't treating that with the gravity that someone probably should. It was just normal. ]
Let's use the phrase... [ Silco looked up at the sky, at the ever-present moon. ] "Moon at noon", perhaps?
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